


Cobwebs

by warriorbarrd



Category: Elyza Lex (Fanverse), The 100 (TV), queer the walking dead
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 02:54:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11393889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorbarrd/pseuds/warriorbarrd
Summary: Elyza Lex doesn't know what's pulling her forward, but she suspects the transluscent thread she sometimes sees when she's half asleep has something to do with it. Is it fate?





	Cobwebs

Sometimes when Elyza wakes up, she catches a glimpse of a silvery thread wrapped around her left pinkie finger. Sometimes, she'll be getting up, grabbing her leather jacket and backpack, and she sees it tied around her ankle. Then she'll blink, rub her eyes and fully wake, but then it's gone. It reminds her of a cobweb caught in sunlight; shiny and translucent and beautiful. It's such an odd thing to wake up to, but she has more pressing concerns than a cobweb she imagines while she's still half asleep.

The dead wake her more often than not. She travels from town to town, looking for ... something. Shelter, people, hope? She doesn't know what drives her forward but there's a sense that she's searching; she supposes she'll know it when she finds it. Often at night she'll find a bathroom or store room, somewhere with no windows and a solid door, and she'll roll out her mattress and hunker down, making as little noise as possible. They get more active at night. 

Time is passing strangely. As she scoured a newsagency the day before last, she saw a calendar hanging behind the counter. It felt to Elyza like the last couple of months had taken years; yet it seemed like only days since she was sitting in the garage with her friend Blake, admiring his new motorcycle. The calendar was set to March. Elyza last knew the date to be somewhere in May; then she'd stop keeping track. 

Cautious - perhaps paranoid - as she is, she takes her pistol from its position next to her makeshift bed and tucks it into the waistband of her black jeans. She rolls up the thin foam mattress she slept on, and listens hard at the door of the freezer room. It's a thick door, which is why she chose it as her bedroom, but she could hear various movers through the night. Now she listens not only for movers, but for humans too. Her last run in with non-infected was not an experience she wants to relive. 

After a few minutes of listening, and hearing silence, she grabs the large bolts on the door and swings them back, cracking the door open slowly. She can see the cafeteria; it looks empty so she takes her pistol from her waistband and slips from the room. 

Keeping the gun ready, she does a quick lap, although she can see over the upended tables that she's alone. As she reaches the end of her circle, she pushes the freezer door open completely and ducks back inside, quickly packing her things into her backpack. She shrugs on her leather jacket, does a quick glance around the freezer - long turned off and pillaged for food - to make sure she hasn't forgotten anything, then grabs the handles of her motorbike. She checks it's in neutral, then kicks the stand up and walks it back through the quiet cafeteria. 

She never rides her bike indoors. Too much noise; the last thing she wants to do is attract any dead that are lingering nearby. As she holds the familiar grips and rolls it silently toward the exit, she supposes it's not technically her bike. But Blake was gone, and when everything had begun he'd told her to take it; he was too sick to use it. He'd had more foresight than the government, insisting that she get out of the suburbs before they locked it down. Since then, she'd been continuously moving. 

Elyza didn't know the country as well as others; she'd only moved to the US a couple of years previous, when her mother got offered a job at the UCLA Medical Centre. She and Elyza's father had just divorced, so Elyza's mum packed them up in Melbourne and they moved across the world. Sometimes Elyza catches herself worrying about her dad, and her friends back home, but she tries to shut those thoughts down quickly. There was literally no way she could reach them, so she just had to hope that perhaps Australia hadn't been infected. 

As she always did, Elyza pauses by the exit and checks through the windowed door to make sure there were no dead nearby. She couldn't see a single person, alive or not, so she pushes the doors open and turns back to grab her bike. 

 _There_. 

As she turns and raises her arm, she sees the silvery thread delicately woven around her wrist, twisting as if it were liquid. She stops and watches it for a second; she's never seen it while she's been fully awake. Then, as suddenly and quickly as it appeared, it vanishes again. Elyza stares at her wrist, turning it over slowly as if the thread will be dangling underneath. 

Nothing. 

She looks around quickly, but not really expecting to find anything, but she's once again overcome with a desperate longing. As if something very important is missing. She knows it is, she's alone and her whole family is gone or out of reach but â€¦ something about this feels different. It's a deeper, hollow feeling that makes her feel queasy. 

She shrugs it off. She has to keep moving. 

Elyza rolls the bike outside, mounts in and slips her helmet on over her head. 

 _No point fighting hordes of the dead if I'm going to die of a head injury_ , she muses to herself wryly. 

After a quick check that everything is in the right place, Elyza presses the ignition button and feels the familiar rumble underneath her. It's the only thing now that gives her any sense of comfort. She looks around, knowing she came in from the left of the building, and kicks the bike into gear. Something is pulling her forward and she's got nothing better to do, right? 

Snorting to herself at the ridiculousness of the situation, she takes off, the morning light glaring at her for a second until the sun is on her left and she's free on the road again.


End file.
